


The Thirst That Makes My Fingers Tremble

by oneforyourfire



Series: *Miracles in December* [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Facials, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: title from pcy's rap verse on overdose (it's 100% about oral sex t b h)warnings: a bj, cheesy language, a facial, me never having written this ship before





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiusass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiusass/gifts).



> title from pcy's rap verse on [overdose](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EshCKTtJGOY) (it's 100% about oral sex t b h)
> 
> warnings: a bj, cheesy language, a facial, me never having written this ship before

Jongin is already on his knees, trembling lip caught between his teeth, waiting. And Kyungsoo’s already pantless, eyes lidded with want, also waiting, watching, too with the kind of raw, raw desire that makes Jongin’s insides twist with reckless arousal. Jongin already feels wrecked and drunk with desire, restless fingers biting into own thighs as we waits.

 _You look so pretty on your knees_ , he always says. _Let me look at you a little longer_.

“Come here,” Kyungsoo whispers.

And lurching forward, Jongin mouths at Kyungsoo’s cock through his boxers, dampening the soft cotton with succulent drags of his aching lips. He lets the ridge of it drag along his cheek, panting when Kyungsoo’s fingers tangle in his hair.

Jongin mouths softly at his wrist instead, nuzzling before blinking up at him. Kyungsoo’s breath hitches sharply, and the muscles beneath his stomach ripple with it. Beneath his tight boxers, against the seam of Jongin’s mouth, Kyungsoo’s cock pulses heavily, and Jongin's body quivers with want. 

“Love that mouth of yours,” Kyungsoo whispers, brushing a reverent finger along his upper, bottom lip, lingering on the latter. “You have the prettiest mouth, you know.”

Jongin begs to differ but he doesn’t argue the point, lets the praise burn through him as he melts into the feather-soft, tender brush of Kyungsoo’s fingers on his skin, arches into the graze of fingernails along his scalp, nuzzles again. 

_Pretty only for you. Only ever for you_.

Kyungsoo urges him back with a hand curled around the nape of his neck, just the slightest bit of firmness in it, and Jongin gasps at the touch, gasps again—louder, breathier, needier—as Kyungsoo uses his other hand to tug his boxer briefs down. 

His cock springs free, grazes Jongin’s cheek, and Jongin nuzzles into it with a pathetically wanting sound. Gripping the base, Kyungsoo drags it across Jongin’s cheek, and Jongin chases the fleeting heat of that excruciatingly slick, throbbing throbbing flesh, his lips dropping open in a soft moan, eyes lidding, fingernails skittering along his own legs.

“ _Hyung_.”

“Want it?” Kyungsoo whispers, and Jongin nods sluggishly, shakily around the steady grip Kyungsoo still has on his head. Kyungsoo’s fingers fan apart, caressing now, urging him forward now. 

“Take it,” he whispers, and Jongin groans as he slides forward. Kyungsoo keeps his hand there, soothing as he slides slow, slow, slow into Jongin’s mouth. Jongin moans loudly at the pressure, at the pleasure. And fuck fuck _fuck_ , he loves having Kyungsoo in his mouth, loves tasting the aching heat and musk of Kyungsoo’s want, loves being good for him, making him feel good, wants wants wants Kyungsoo to be the only thing he can see, smell, taste, touch, hear, love love love.

Jongin curls his tongue, bobs forward then back, once, twice, extra wet, extra succulent, extra good. 

And Kyungsoo is already so painfully, gorgeously affected, breathing heavily through his bitten achingly ruddy lips, dark eyelashes fluttering against his pale skin. He's debauched and sinfully overcome, and Jongin—Jongin is the sole cause. For his hard cock, his labored breathing, his tense, tense body. 

“Hyung,” Jongin moans into velvet head of Kyungsoo’s cock, groaning as Kyungsoo smears wet and hot and filthy along his lips. 

“My Jongin,” Kyungsoo responds, shifting his hips minutely in the hottest, softest reminder, and Jongin swallows him down again. Faster, deeper, harder. 

He chokes, pulls back, chokes again again again.

Kyungsoo isn’t loud in bed—only spilling forth the occasional breathy moan, burning him with the infrequent rasped praise, but Jongin can feel Kyungsoo’s heady ruin where sounds don't exist. In the taut tension of his thighs, the helpless throb of his cock, in the stinging tug of his warm fingers in Jongin’s hair.

“Wanna touch yourself, Jongin?” he asks, and there's something so rough almost taunting in his tone, just just just the hint of it, enough to have little epicenters of arresting arousal tingling through Jongin's limbs. Jongin breathes, sucks greedily past the shudder that overcomes him.

“ _Yes_ ,” he manages, around the next bob. “Yes wanna—touch myself. Wanna co—ome.”

Kyungsoo drags against his inner cheek, skims the roof of his mouth. His fingers trace over the ring of Jongin’s lips, thumb catching on the seam of his mouth with a fond, approving caress. Jongin swallows more heavily, his lips aching. Tears spring to his eyes, and he blinks past them, wills his body stronger, his mouth softer, wetter, more pliant, thrums and aches and and burns and falls apart for Kyungsoo’s every tiny, tiny response.

“You’re so good, baby," he rasps. "Touch yourself for me, you’re so good.” 

One trembling hand braced on Kyungsoo’s flexing thigh, Jongin does just that, whimpering brokenly, raggedly at the touch of his own fingers. Kyungsoo thrusts deeper, harder in response, and Jongin, overwhelmed, gags, wheezes—loves it. 

The mounting heat curls deep in his gut, and he strokes himself faster, sloppier, his eyes fluttering shut at the heated, heady cocktail of sensations. The heat of his own palm, the heat of Kyungsoo's fingers in his hair, the heat of Kyungsoo’s cock in his mouth, and the searing, searing seal of Kyungsoo’s low, rasped approval. 

“Nini,” he says. “ _Baby boy_.” And _fuck_ Jongin’s body locks at the endearment. “So good,” Kyungsoo continues in a breathless praise. “You have the— _fuck_ —best mouth.”

Jongin swipes his thumb repeatedly against head of his cock as he takes Kyungsoo deeper, groaning at the stretch and the heat and the taste. Twisting on every upstroke, he drags the rough callouses on his palm against the sensitive, pulsing, pulsing flesh of his own erection, sucking desperately on Kyungsoo’s cock all the while.

All he can see, smell, taste, touch, hear, love love _love_.

And it crescendoes just like that as Kyungsoo cradles his cheek, spills another “baby boy” in the lowest, roughest, fondest rasp of a whisper that Jongin has ever heard.

Orgasm tears through him—violent and scorching and demanding.

Trembling helplessly, drowning in pleasure, Jongin pulls away to gasp brokenly against Kyungsoo's thigh, his saliva-slick cock, groping forward as soon as he recovers with his clumsy, wanting fingers to tug him to completion instead.

Kyungsoo continues to pet over his scalp, shaky fingers threading then tugging so sharply that Jongin shudders. Fingers curled at the base of his skull, Kyungsoo holds Jongin steady as he strokes himself once, twice, thrice then comes hot and heavy across Jongin’s cheeks, nose, mouth.

And quaking with the aftershocks, brilliant and warm in the afterglow, Jongin loves the ache in his jaw, in his knees, the ache in his heart, too as Kyungsoo drags him up, shoulder-first, whispering his name once more, as he drops light, fond, fond kiss on his come-painted skin.

**Author's Note:**

> #EmbraceTheNotp2k16


End file.
